


Talon in Another World

by orphan_account



Series: Sharper Talons [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 09:58:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19903882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jason Todd is recruited by Owlman





	Talon in Another World

Gotham, it was like some kind of bottomless vermin infested cesspool.

Rats scurried around young Jason Todd as he frantically searched for his mother. She was gone all night, which wasn't unusual. It was well into the afternoon, though, and she hadn't returned. He searched through trash and filth filled alley after trash and filth filled ally.

He found her lying in a trashcan in a nearby ally. It looked like she had overdosed. Vomit streaked her hair. Jason involuntarily took a breath and started to gag even though it was a familiar smell.

Carefully, he dragged her stumbling form back into the house and started a bath. Maybe the cool water on her face would wake her up? He frantically splashed her with cold water from the bath, but nothing happened other than some eye twitches. She didn't even open her eyes. At first, he didn't panic; she was probably just passed out. This happened a lot, no cause for alarm? After a few minutes of repeating the process, though, Jason's eyes began to widen; he noticed that she wasn't breathing regularly.

"Mom!" Jason shouted.

The boy began to frantically shake her and call her name. She was limp in his arms, like a ragdoll.

"Mom!" Jason shrieked with tear filled eyes. He ran to the phone to call for help, but it was disconnected.

He helped his mother to the couch while he went to use a neighbor's phone. She was barely breathing.

The ambulance came, and she was pronounced dead at the scene. Jason's mind raced as he heard the news. It was like he was somewhere else. It all felt like a bad dream, one he desperately wanted to wake up from.

"Do you have any friends or family, young man?" the EMT worker asked.

The young boy did not respond. Instead, he ran away, covering his tear streaked face. He returned to the old run down apartment, buried his head in a cushion and cried. The smell of his mother's shampoo wafted into his nose and mixed with the smell of vomit. His eyes burned as they were pricked with salty tears.

Jason's dad had been arrested and taken to jail months ago. He died in prison, something about getting mixed up with the wrong crowd. His mother was the one he had to rely on.

Night fell, and the boy realized for the first time that he was truly alone. Jason struggled to get to sleep.

For a while, Jason continued his routine and tried to pretend that nothing happened. It worked for a few days, until the utilities were shut off, and the locks were changed. Then, he found himself homeless.

The first night on the streets was the most frightening. Jason found himself in an ally behind the Last Laff Comedy Club. A mad cackle echoed through the darkness. There were people yelling. It sounded like some kind of fight. Jason backed away; he didn't want any trouble. He thought he'd escaped all of the commotion when…

"Hi there!"

A raspy yet strangely melodious voice sing-songed. Jason reluctantly looked up. His eyes met the hideous Glasgow grin and pale makeup streaked face. The rest of the creature was shrouded in darkness. It gave a hoarse laugh and gloved hands reached out toward the boy.

Jason ran, not even turning to look back.

Unfortunately, the nightmares weren't over yet. There, looming in another ally way was a living shadow shaped like a bird or a bat. It moved silently and swooped down toward its prey. The eyes, if that's what they were, glowed in the dark and were the only things visible on the demonic creature. The rest was a shroud of blackness.

"Give me all your money!" someone shouted.

The mad cackling started again.

Gunshots rang out into the night.

The boy continued running.

Jason bumped into a man in rags warming himself by a trashcan fire.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" the drunk man shouted. He then clumsily threw his bottle at the boy.

Glass shattered at the boy's feet. Young Todd didn't even turn around. He felt like stopping to do anything would be asking someone to take his life. Instead, he continued running through the Gotham streets.

The laughter continued to echo.

The shadows continued to loom.

Gunshots continued to echo.

Finally, Jason had reached his end. Too exhausted to run, he ducked into the first open building he saw, a bar of some sort.

Warily, the boy took a seat on an empty stool.

"Hey! We're closing!" a man yelled.

At first, Jason didn't even look up.

"Hey, kid, I'm talking to you. We're closing. You can't be here," the man said.

Finally, Jason looked up.

At first, he only saw the suit. It looked like fine white silk. Fancy. The guy must be rich.

The boy's eyes continued to travel, and everything was okay until he came to the face. There wasn't a face, only a skull-shaped mask, and it looked like it had been burned, melted into place.

Jason's eyes widened.

"What are you looking at?" the man asked.

"N-nothing…" the kid said.

The boy continued to sit there.

"What are you waiting for? Go home!" the man commanded again.

Reluctantly, Jason got up from his seat and started slowly walking into the Gotham night.

His stomach started to growl; he hadn't eaten since he'd been kicked out of his house.

The boy looked around at the dirt covered alleys that took his mom's life. Jason was beginning to hate this place with a passion. It was like a remorseless garbage dump.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder. Jason froze. He looked up to see the man from before with the black mask.

"Gotham streets are dangerous. I'm sorry about my manners from before. I didn't realize you were on foot. Would you like a ride back to your home, young man?" the strange man asked.

Jason continued staring at the man.

He reached his hand up to his face and removed the mask. His face was scarred, like it had been burnt, but at least it looked human.

The boy's expression relaxed just a hair.

"Sorry! I wear the mask when I'm in public. It's good camouflage for my uh business," the man said.

"You sell drugs?" Jason asked incredulously.

"Drugs? No! Heavens no!" the man replied.

"Guns, then?" Jason asked.

"Look kid, what I do-it's really complicated...so, where do you live?" the man asked again.

"My parents told me not to talk to strangers," Jason replied.

The man sighed.

"Kid, do you even have a place to stay? Be honest," the man said.

Jason shook his head.

"I used to know of a place...St. Mary's...it was burned down a couple of weeks ago, though. I can't really do anything on such short notice except offer you to stay with me for the night," the man said.

"With you?" Jason asked. The boy looked disgusted, "what gives you the idea I'd even want to stay with you?"

"Hey, take it or leave it. The wife runs a little guest house; we'd put you up for free,"

The man sighed.

"Look, kid, I know I'm not much to look at, but my wife and I, we're decent Gothamites, and the streets are dangerous,"

"Will my room have a lock and a key?" Jason asked.

"Of course! There's bound to be an empty room or two in the guest house," the man said.

Jason reluctantly accepted the strange man's offer, even though everything inside of him was screaming not to trust him. It was either that or take a chance with Gotham's other weirdos on a park bench or nearby subway terminal. There were rumors there was some kind of half-man half crocodile beast down there.

The boy carefully got into the back seat of the old black sedan. It looked like it had seen better days. There were cigarette burns in the upholstery. Jason moved his hand across the seat and felt crumbs. His feet kicked a baby bottle.

Somebody with kids can't be that bad, can they?

The bottle of spoiled milk made him feel just a little bit better. He didn't know much about criminals, but they probably wouldn't endanger their own kids.

The sedan suddenly stopped.

"We're here!"

Jason looked up to see an old run down brick building.

At least he hoped.

Todd slowly followed the man into the building. Inside, it was like an office or maybe a hotel lobby, even though he'd never been inside of one of those. It smelled of bleach and ammonia and there were plenty of comfortable couches and chairs to lounge on. Jason made his way to the couch and pulled out a newspaper.

The front page headline read Mysterious vigilante stands up to the Crime Syndicate.

Jason sighed. There was always crime in Gotham. What else was new?

The mysterious man who offered Jason shelter walked up to him and dropped a set of keys in his lap.

"Checkout at twelve," the man said with a kind smile.

"You guys offer a continental breakfast?" Jason joked.

"You can eat with my family if you get up early enough," the man offered.

Jason made his way to his room. He was exhausted. There was a twin bed, a dresser, a little TV, a microwave, a mini fridge, and a radio. Too bad he didn't have enough money to get some drinks for the fridge or some popcorn to eat. He was still hungry, but he decided not to tell anyone. It was best not to cause trouble; they might decide to kick him out.

He was also uncomfortable with this arrangement. His gut told him that no one expects something for nothing, and he wasn't sure what the man did for a living, but he didn't want anything to do with it.

Too late to worry about that now, Jason thought.

He reached for the remote. Maybe some TV would help him get his mind off of things? A blurry picture came on screen and then slowly focused.

"...and in other news, Gotham City is safe due to Owlman patrolling city streets," a woman's voice said.

The camera panned to newly elected Commissioner James Gordon.

"Commissioner, how do you respond to the people's accusations that the Owl is just another criminal masquerading as a superhero?" the woman asked.

"Uh...no comment!" For a minute, the Commissioner looked like he was stumped by the question.

Costumed freaks are running around Gotham, and the crooked politicians are defending them. What else is new?

Jason yawned and flipped the channel. He wasn't that interested in Gotham City politics.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door. Jason instinctively flipped off the television and was going to look for a place to hide until he remembered that he belonged there.

"Come in!" Jason shouted.

He heard a key being turned. The door swung open.

An older woman in a maid outfit was standing with a tray. The smell of fresh baked chicken wafted into the room.

"Mr. Sionis requested I bring you this," the woman said.

She set it on the small bedside table and walked out before Jason could protest.

The boy smelled the food and clutched his growling stomach.

Slowly, he lifted the lid of the tray and began eating, trying to will away the butterflies. He just knew he was going to owe someone big for all of this, but it was too late now.

...

The next day, Jason awoke to another knock on the door. He groggily got up and opened it. It was the maid again.

"Mr. Sionis requested that you join his family for breakfast," she informed him.

Jason was nervous, but again, what choice did he have? He quietly left his room, locked the door, and followed the maid.

There was a small house not too far from the large brick hotel building. Jason made his way there.

A younger woman greeted him with a smile.

"Oh, you must be the young man my husband told me about! Come in. My name is Circe..and you are?" she asked.

"Jason...Jason Todd…" Jason said in the calmest tone he could muster. He wasn't exactly nervous, but this did feel strange.

Jason cautiously entered the house. There were two younger kids seated at the table. They must have been around seven or eight-years-old.

"Hi," a little blond haired girl said shyly. She smiled and showed snaggle teeth.

The little boy just waved.

Jason stood there awkwardly.

Roman appeared from the hallway.

"Have a seat, kid; food's getting cold!" the man joked.

The boy did as he was told.

…

After breakfast, Sionis invited Jason outside to talk.

"I found a shelter that's still in operation. You can stay there temporarily until you get the help you need, kid," the man said.

The man smiled and the scars extending from his eye all the way across his cheek, like he'd been slashed by a rabid animal, stretched.

Jason willed himself not to wince at the grotesque sight. He had questions about those. What were they? Gashes? Burns? He decided to keep his mouth shut.

…

Todd arrived at the shelter in Bludhaven, counting his blessings that he ran into the nice if extremely odd old man instead of one of Gotham's many criminally insane weirdos.

A very nice old lady checked him in and listened to his story. He was supposed to be in a foster home, but she promised not to tell on him.

Jason was free to come and go as he pleased at the shelter, as long as he followed the curfew and attended school.

He also learned that the old man was named Roman Sionis, also known as Black Mask, due to the scarf he wore during the day to hide his scars. Jason wasn't really sure why he wore the mask; it might have been purely aesthetic since everyone around town seemed to know who he really was or at least a few of the other children knew who he was.

Jason wasn't sure about him at first, but the man became almost the father Jason never had, visiting the shelter and checking up on him every week at least. Jason didn't know why, and he was suspicious of it at first, but as he got used to it, he started to trust more and more.

Those scars were still fascinating to him, and he had lost a lot of his initial fear of the man, so one day he asked.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but how...did you get those scars?" Jason asked.

The man laughed.

"These? It's been so long…"

Jason made a half eye roll.

Roman sighed.

"I can't tell you that, kid, sorry," the man said.

"Why not?" Jason asked.

"If I tell you, you've gotta promise not to tell a soul, got it?"

Jason nodded.

The man lowered his voice.

"The Owl gave them to me,"

Jason huffed a small laugh.

"The Owl? Isn't he just an urban legend?" Jason asked skeptically.

"The Owl's real, Talons are real, the Court of Owls is real…"

"Sure…" Jason said mockingly.

"I'm serious,"

Jason listened intently as the old man recounted the story.

"Thomas Wayne Jr., one of my childhood friends was involved in some shady stuff. I didn't know how shady. One night, I discovered a plan to taint the makeup my parents' company manufactured so that Wayne enterprises could buy them out. I tried to warn my parents, but they didn't listen..."

The old man grew silent and looked over his shoulder as he listened to a nearby tree rustle in the wind.

"...anyway...they sent the Talons, their enforcers, after my parents and had them killed. I was left alone with the makeup company, but I didn't know what to do with all of that wealth and power suddenly dumped in my lap. Wayne offered to buy me out, but I refused,"

Roman nervously rubbed the scars on his face and sucked in a breath.

"Wayne got what he wanted anyway, though, they always did. Late one night, someone put a mask full of tainted makeup on my face while I was sleeping. I woke up with my face burning. I ran to the bathroom to wash it off, and when I started rinsing, skin started falling off, big bloody patches of skin,"

Jason winced.

"Okay...okay...I get the picture…" the boy said as he made a face of disgust.

The old man sighed.

"Anyway, by the time I was finished removing it, my face was almost gone, burned through to the skull. I was given skin grafts, but it never looked the same. I started wearing this black scarf in protest of what Wayne did, but no one was ever able to prove anything. They successfully bought out my company and left me with almost nothing. I did manage to scrape together a little bit to purchase that guest house, though, and keep my wife and me out of the poor house,"

Jason seemed satisfied with the story. He swung his feet against the bench he was sitting on and looked the old man in the eyes.

"Um...so, what was this other business you told me you had on the side?" Jason asked.

The old man sighed again.

"The truth? You've probably figured it out. Everybody's a criminal in Gotham, kid. I steal things and sell them to make ends meet; I didn't want to tell you that at first," the old man said.

"Why are you telling me now?" Jason asked.

The man stopped.

"Too many questions,"

Jason grabbed his shoulder.

"I said, 'why are you telling me now?"

Roman sighed.

"...you remind me of a son I had, Jason, but I think I've said enough..."

"I think you've said too much!" a voice shouted. It sounded like it came from the ceiling.

Before Jason could look up, the electricity went out, and the room went black.

"You!" Roman shouted.

Jason instinctively reached for the old man to make sure he was okay. Suddenly, the man jerked and let out a guttural growl before falling to the floor. The lights came back on. Young Jason was standing next to a bloody corpse.

He didn't cry. Instead, he scanned for the mysterious attacker.

The lights went out again. This time the blade was at his neck. He felt the sharp blade stinging his skin.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't slit your throat, kid!" a gruff voice growled.

Jason whimpered and didn't answer.

"What's that?" the figure asked.

Tears started to flow.

"Your master stole some very important things from my operation. I have reason to think you were involved," the man said.

"I didn't steal anything," Jason whispered.

The boy felt the blade pushed against his neck with more force.

"One slash across your jugular. One clean nick. That's all it takes to end your life," the figure threatened in a calm tone.

Jason coughed as the blade entered. He felt drops of blood running down his neck.

More tears fell.

"Stop! I didn't steal anything!" the boy pleaded.

The blade was pushed in further.

"I'm not on the main artery, but all I have to do is make one swift motion, and I'll tear it clean in two!"

Jason didn't say anything. Blood and tears fell down his neck.

"My weapons cache was gone! Now, it took some skill just to get past my security,"

"I didn't do anything, I swear," the boy said. This time, tears were streaming down his face.

Jason felt his skin tear as the sharp object was yanked out of his neck.

The figure growled.

"I don't believe you, but I think I could use you; besides, the alternative, since you now know about me, is death," the man said.

Jason sank to the floor and quivered like a leaf. The man's armored gauntlet reached out and pulled him to his feet.

"Do we have a deal?"

The boy very slowly nodded his head as tears continued to fall down his cheeks.

"Good," the figure spat.

...

..

If finding his mother dead of an overdose was like having a bad dream and going to the boys' shelter in Bludhaven was like waking up, then being with Owlman was like having a never ending nightmare.

His first night, he was beaten for betrayal and locked in a little claustrophobic damp, possibly underground room in nothing but his shorts; bats flew around his head, and rats crawled at his feet, while he lay on a rock hard slab and shivered.

Training was a grueling exercise of will. Jason felt his body being pushed past its limits. He was given special shots to keep his body going when it should have long passed out from exhaustion.

Every day was like that for months. Wake up, train until he was so exhausted he could barely move. Eat his rations. Go back to training. Sleep. Rinse and repeat.

A month later, he entered the training area and felt like he was going to snap if he had to do one more push-up. He was so angry that he tore a gear in the exercise equipment.

He thought he was going to be punished, but instead, someone overhead laughed.

"I think he's ready!" a voice shouted.

It sounded younger than the Owlman who recruited him.

"You think so?" the older voice asked.


End file.
